Shadows of Darkness
by ShinigamiDeathscytheSan
Summary: Duo had taken a different path of life after the wars; he hadn't joined Preventers like the others. Instead, he had kept to the shadows. Only now, four years later, memories of his closest friend are beginning to rise to the surface. Eventual Yaoi.OCdeath
1. The Greatest Hitman of our Generation

**finally! its finally finished! this fic just never wanted to end DX it WAS actually only supposed to be a one-shot, maybe a two-shot, but it just kinda didnt want to end, so i had to break it up into chapters...**

**well anyways, this i guess is a slight AU, like not really, but, well... you'll see. **

**so yeah. Duo POV, btw. i worked hard on this fic, and save for the end, i really like it. i hope you do too!**

**Disclaimer: If i owned gw, yaoi would be cannon and the series would still be going... somehow... 15 years later... XD also, the quote down there is from Rurouni Kenshin :D**

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Shadows of Death

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Prologue

The Greatest Hitman of our Generation

"_A relentless assassin, lurking in the darkness of the night..."_

It's the year AC 200. The years had gone by so fast, yet it seemed like an eternity since I had last seen the other pilots, since the wars had come to an end. You see, I hadn't taken the same path as my four best friends... No, I found a career that was much darker than they had. Instead of joining Preventers, like many survivors of the war had, I had fallen into the shadows, becoming an assassin for the big men of the Underworld. I hadn't even so much as spoken to any of the other pilots since we last saw each other, and the only way I knew they were still alive and well was through a Preventers Information Dealer that I had ties with on occasion. He knew who I was, and would always tell me about my friends when I met with him. Sometimes, I wondered how I had ended up with a life like this, still killing many men and women mercilessly. And yet, I somehow _enjoyed_ what I did. There was that near constant adrenaline high of sneaking into unknown territory, spying on the target, watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Looking at my job from a detached view, however, it really was quite strange. An ex-Gundam pilot doing the all the dirty work for men he had once despised, ending what could very well be innocent lives simply because I was ordered to. Sure, I didn't care much for the rules and restrictions I constantly had to follow, but I always got the job done perfectly. I was freelance, working for anyone who needed me—one hit I'd be doing for one guy, and the next, his rival. I never knew what I'd be getting myself into with each killing.

So here I was, crouched in the shadows of some rich dude's apartment. His name was Mitchell Coleman and he was a supposed 'enemy' of the man I was doing the job for, a man by the name of Reynolds. I shifted slightly, balancing my weight on my heels instead of the balls of my feet. I was anxious to get this over with and go back to my hotel room. At the moment, I was watching this Coleman guy flirt with what appeared to be his girlfriend. Sure he was young and handsome and she was blonde and beautiful, but if I had to watch them for much longer, I was going to have to finish the job sooner than planned. I wasn't exactly _into_ girls, per se, and this was a total turn off. I wasn't into that kind of stuff.

Finally! The blonde stood up from where she had been sitting on his lap and left the room, beckoning him to follow her. He gestured that he'd be there in a minute. No, he wouldn't. Not if I had any say in it... and I most certainly did. Coleman stood from the sofa, his back to me, and fixed his ruffled dress shirt and tie. I watched in silence as he walked over to the large desk by the window. He checked a few papers before nodding in satisfaction; he turned to face the window. Now was my chance. I rose from my hiding place—which had been under a table, as undignified as it was—and stepped silently over to my target. I was careful to make sure he could not see my reflection in the window.

"Well, well, well, here we have the flirt and his oh so beautiful girlfriend. I wonder which one of them is about to die?" Coleman turned to face me in complete shock, his eyes wide and shining, almost haunted, in the low light. I grinned, drawing my gun and holding it loosely in my hand, as if it wasn't stained with the blood of so many lives.

"Who sent you?" he asked, voice just as low as mine—we couldn't be discovered by that girlfriend of his. His tone had been surprisingly calm, something I hadn't expected from a businessman not much older than myself. He stepped closer to his desk, reaching inconspicuously for the drawer.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I said, raising my gun lazily to aim it at him. He stopped, "Go on, put your hands up." I licked my dry lips, watching as he raised his hands and put them behind his head—something told me he knew this routine rather well. Despite Coleman's actions, though, I could still sense the fear radiating from him, feel the tension in the air. After a few moments of simply staring at me, a sort of grim realization crossed his features. He just realized who I was.

"Y-You're..." the fear was finally vocalized. "You're that Gundam pilot... I've heard about you... Duo Maxwell, right? Supposedly the greatest hitman of our generation... I remember when you were on TV five years ago, when you got caught..." his voice darkened, as if he regretted his next words, "I actually felt bad for you." I scoffed at that, as if it didn't matter. And it didn't; this guy was so close to death that anything he said right now was really meaningless. He was doing nothing more than trying to prolong the inevitable. After a few minutes of me simply staring at him, Coleman repeated, "Who sent you... to kill me?"

I smirked, lowering my gun a bit so he could see my amusement, "Ah yes, the token question." My smirk became a malicious grin as I mocked him, "I know the routine by heart, 'Who sent you?' 'Please don't kill me!' 'I'm innocent, I swear!' ...yadda, yadda, yadda. It means nothing to me, so let's just get on with it, shall we? I'd like to go to bed at a decent hour tonight, if you don't mind." I raised my gun so that it was level with his eyes and took a step forward, "I will tell you though. It was your good buddy Reynolds who put out the hit. Now, any last words? Wanna leave a short suicide note for little Miss Blondie in the next room?"

Coleman shook his head in disbelief. He hadn't heard a word I said after I told him it was Reynolds that wanted him dead. "But..." he stuttered, "J-John was on my side...? Why would he betray me?"

I frowned, undoing the safety on my simple black pistol. With the silencer in place like it was, Miss Blondie in the next room wouldn't even hear the death of her lover. My finger tensed before pulling the trigger, and I watched in a sort of blood lusting trance as crimson spattered from Coleman's forehead as the force of the bullet pushed him back. I was surprised when his back hit the window and it cracked, shattering at his weight. The glass had been surprisingly thin and flimsy for such a high story building... The dead man plummeted forty stories, nothing more than a broken heap of flesh as his fall came to a very abrupt end.

"Oops," I breathed, wincing as I heard the sounds of panicked screams float up to the apartment. I quickly holstered my gun, blending back into the shadows just as Miss Blondie reappeared in the room. She screamed as well, staring in horror at the broken window and the blood on the carpet... now to make my escape. Silently, I edged to the front door leading out of the room and then proceeded to exit the apartment. My long black trench coat trailed behind me as I sauntered to the elevator at the end of the long hall. I took it down to the ground floor, then left the fancy building as inconspicuously as I had entered several hours prior. No one would suspect a thing, as always.

Once I was back out onto the street, I disappeared into the night, returning to the shadows until Shinigami was called upon once again...

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**Hey. dont complain that its short. its a prologue XD but did you like it? review please!**

**so yeah! i love duo's trench coat :D i'll post the next chapter tomorrow. **

**uhmmm oh yeah, now that this is finally done, i'm gonna try to work on the sequel to "**Lips of an Angel**" okay? heero really wants me to finish it, so i'll try.**

**-shinigami out...**


	2. Next Hit

**tadaa! chapter 1! thanks for all the reviews for the prologue, i really hope you guys enjoy this story as much as i had fun writing it. **

**now, we enter Duo's world, in a MUCH longer chapter :D you guys are gonna be really happy bout this-cuz my chapters are usually only like 1-2k words... this fic has long chapters, for the most part. and long paragraphs. like really long. idk what chapter it was in, but one of these paragraphs was 22lines in Word. 22!**

**anyways, happy reading!**

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Shadows of Darkness

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Chapter 1

Next Hit

I slept fitfully that night, my mind plagued by horrid nightmares. I had been dreaming of Heero and the others, like I often did, only this time it was different—I was watching them die. I awoke with a cry, stifling it with my hands as I sat up in the plush bed. My heart was pounding and I was breathing heavily; I stared around my dark bedroom in an almost paranoid daze. Panic nearly had a complete hold on my chest. Sure, I had dreams on occasion where the four of them had lost their lives—in a Gundam battle, for example—but never something like this. I had never actually watched the life fade from Heero's eyes, seen that betrayed expression on his face... I had never been the one holding the gun that killed them.

Sleep evaded me for the rest of the night; it wasn't like I had actually tried to return to the dreaming depths, though... that nightmare had shaken me to the core, leaving me weary and disoriented for the next few days. I just couldn't shake the feeling, couldn't get it out of my head. So even now, a full two days later, I was still entranced by the intensity of that dream. It wasn't very good to be like this, considering I appeared to be nothing more than a teenager wandering alone in the big city. Sure, my looks had matured some since the days of the war, but it wasn't like I had gotten much taller. My hair was longer, still braided, and that energetic sparkle had never left my violet eyes... despite the coldhearted career I had taken on. And yet, I most certainly dressed my age: a neat black suit, matched with a long black trench coat and an equally as dark ribbon at the end of my braid. That was how I dressed everyday, dressed today—holding up the physical façade of a young, smart businessman—as I sat alone on the mid-morning train and waited for my stop. I stared out the window, eyes focused on nothing, as my mind altered and tried to come up with a different plotline for that dream... anything to change its outcome. I could handle seeing my friends die in my nightmares, just not when I was the one... killing them...

I shivered, pulling my coat tighter around myself. Was it actually chilly in here? Or was it just me? I glanced around... no, I was the only one. Odd. So my stop finally came and I filed out of the train like everybody else before disappearing into the shadows. _Now_ it was cold. I could see my breath puffing out before me as I walked hurriedly down the snow-soaked sidewalk. The dirtied slush was everywhere, falling from the clouds in a light flurry, piling up on the sides of the busy street, getting trampled on by the many pedestrians. I quickly checked my watch, 10:21 AM. Good. My train had been delayed because of the weather, but I still had plenty of time to get to my meeting at quarter to eleven. I stifled a yawn as I walked, pressing my gloved hand over my mouth; I hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep since that last hit a few days ago... Pushing those thoughts out of my mind, I walked down the bustling streets, pushing past people when necessary, blending in with the locals who had lived here all their lives, not waiting for the crosswalk's okay signal when I needed to cross the busy roads. Before I knew it, I had found the large, old building that my instructions had indicated. I ducked into the alleyway, exchanging the briefest of glances with the hobo that was sitting at the mouth of the narrow path. He nodded to me and I ever so slightly returned the gesture, my face void of expression, momentarily playing the part of the coldhearted assassin. He knew who I was, or at least what I looked like, as I had been instructed that he would be there when I arrived at the meeting place. Hey, for all I knew, he might not have actually been a hobo, maybe he was some rich information broker, or an assassin like me, but I honestly had no clue. Chances were though; he was just a normal hobo... I didn't recognize him.

About halfway down the alley, I came to a well hidden staircase in the tall building. I glanced around inconspicuously to make sure no one saw me entering—that hobo from a few moments ago was gone already... odd. So I ducked down into the hidden staircase, following it for the full flight to the basement level of the building. I knocked twice on the door, then once more—as I had been instructed—and a slat that was nearly level with the top of my head opened and a pair of beady eyes scrutinized me for a moment before disappearing. The door opened and I was greeted by the three men inside—two bodyguards and the man who had ordered me here. I walked into the warm room, shrugging out of my trench coat and handing it, along with my gloves and hat, to the tall bodyguard that had been at the door—I nodded to him and he nodded back, silently making known the social and strength dissimilarity between us, despite the near comical difference in height. The middle-aged man at the end of the long, dark wood table stood, gesturing for me to sit in the empty seat next to his, "Good morning Mr. Maxwell. I'm glad you could make it." The man's name was Alexander Bowen, and he was the big-shot who had hired me for this next hit. I had worked with him many times before in the past, but nothing rather recent. I guess he had someone else take care of all the hits he had put out. However, I certainly didn't mind 'helping out' with Bowen's 'friends', since the jobs were usually very straightforward, and he paid very well. He was the only man I knew of who would put out a hit for more than one person at once—as in, the job itself would be to kill like three people, instead of just one. But that was what made it interesting. And another thing, whenever he had the need for a double or triple hit, I was one of the first ones he called. Always. And when I got hired for it, I _always_ got the job done right... and even that little episode two nights ago—which really wasn't bad at all—that was the biggest screw up I had had in years.

I snapped out of my musings as I sat down next to Bowen, "'Morning. And of course I made it; did'ya think I'd ever pass up one of your hits? I'll have enough money saved up after this to go on vacation for a month!" I laughed and he joined in, although his amusement did not reach his eyes. Did I mention that Alexander Bowen tended to give me the creeps? Really, something about him just set off all these red flags in my head, screaming at me to keep my wits about me and to never let my guard down in his presence. I was sure he was harmless—at least to someone like me, who could easily kill him before he could so much as blink—and his jobs were definitely worth the worry, but I still didn't like him as a person. Later, I'd realize why, exactly, he creeped me out so much—aside from the scary personality, he closely resembled Trant Clark, that soldier from the wars who had forced me to pilot Wing ZERO. But that didn't matter now as I stared intently at the man before me, showing no signs of my discomfort at being near him.

"Well, like always, it's truly a pleasure doing business with you. You, Mr. Maxwell, are undoubtedly the most skilled and trustworthy hitman I know. I don't know what I'd do if you had joined those pansy Preventers like the rest of the Gundam pilots." He laced his fingers together, elbows on the table, and rested his chin on them, leaning forward slightly, "If only Pilot 01 had followed your example... Surely the two of you would cause twice, no, triple the devastation you have alone." I leaned back in my chair, inconspicuously escaping the onslaught of bad breath. Before I could speak, though, he continued, "Putting that aside, I called you here this morning because you are the only one that I am confident with entrusting this hit to. It is the most important job I have ever put out, even before your time. I am going to be relying on your pure skill, accuracy, and determination to get this done right, Mr. Maxwell. I have all the information you need to know; I can't afford to lose this opportunity, so everything is already taken care of."

I quirked an eyebrow, my self esteem skyrocketing at the fact that I was the only one who he trusted this hit to. "Jeez, it's even too much for the other guys? Like Toby May, or Mitch Greer... even John Riley—that one guy who used to be part of the Romefeller Foundation?" Despite the how amazed I was about him choosing me for a job like this, I was a little worried that Bowen hadn't even considered the other guys—those three were nearly as good as I was, and the ones like May and Greer had major seniority privileges over me...

"No, this job is far beyond their capabilities. Only a hitman of your caliber can accomplish this task, Mr. Duo Maxwell..." I suppressed a shiver at the tone of his voice. Maybe I should change the subject...?

"So... how many people I gotta kill this time?" I asked slowly a few moments later, stifling a yawn. I paid no mind as Bowen nodded to one of the guards and continued to talk, "Cuz the last time you hired me it was a simple double hit, and Riley got the big job you had out." I nodded a small thanks to the tall guard as a steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of me—I could already tell that it was the expensive, imported kind. I sipped it and gazed at Bowen, waiting for him to answer.

His stare got very serious, "This time, Mr. Maxwell, I need you to take care of four killings before I can pay you." My eyebrows raised in surprise. "I will only be giving you data on one target at a time, so you will need to contact one of my subordinates between each hit, but I am sure you can do it." His tone darkened toward the end and I held back the shiver, my mind finishing his sentence for him, _'Or Else.'_

"Holy crap, four guys? This sounds like it's gonna be fun," I smirked, hiding the feelings of unease. I kept quiet when a comment about how many people he's had me kill in the past few years came to mind.

Bowen nodded, pulling a plain, metal clasp envelope from his briefcase and handing it to me. "This file contains all you need to know about your first target. I assume he will be the most difficult to silence, so act with great care. I'm counting on you, Mr. Maxwell."

Taking the cue that the meeting was over, I took a few more gulps of my coffee, savoring the richness of it, before rising from the antique chair. I picked up the envelope, holding it in the crook of my arm, "Don't worry Alex, I'll get the job done for sure. No worries," I smirked, grinning fully when he frowned at my informality. I turned, walking over to the door on the other side of the room; the bodyguard handed me my coat and other belongings. After hurriedly pulling on said clothing and tucking the large envelope into my coat, I waved childishly at Bowen before disappearing out the heavy door. I shivered as I made my way up the slippery staircase, careful not to lose my step. As I exited the alleyway a moment later, I was nearly knocked over by a sudden gust of snowy, icy wind; when it had passed, I was amazed that my hat was still on my head. My entire right side had a thin layer of already melting snow plastered to it. I grinned at the absurdity of the situation.

I made my way down the busy street, back in the direction of the train station. Once I was about halfway there, however, I turned and walked a few blocks west—heading towards the large bookstore in this area of the city. I was still rather new to the city, having moved here only a few months ago—I had been living as a hitman on L-2, only coming down to Earth every few weeks to take care of some of the more 'challenging' hits. I had finally given in and started living here fulltime—and the bookstore was one of the few locations I could always get to. Once inside the warm, large building, I took the stairs up to the fourth floor. It was the quietest up here, the only sound the small hum of the classical music playing on the store's speaker system. I shrugged out of my coat, really feeling the heater up here on the top floor. I walked to the back corner of the big room, to the well stocked manga selection and placed my coat on one of the nicer chairs. This part of the store was always empty around this time of day. I quickly scanned the many shelves of manga, before finding what I had been looking for. I quickly pulled out the newest volume of the yaoi series I had been reading lately, then went to go sit down. I quickly thumbed through the book before setting it aside and opening up the envelope and slipping out its contents.

I quirked an eyebrow... wasn't this supposed to have all the information I needed? I glanced over the two pieces of paper that made up the file, wondering if some of it had fallen out. No, I know for sure that didn't happen—the metal clasp at the top of the packet had been sealed the entire time. There wasn't even a photo of my target, just some printed notes on where he lived, where he worked, when I would be able to kill him, etcetera, etcetera... Hold on a sec—I didn't even get the target's name! What the Hell? ...Either Bowen really doesn't trust me—or anyone at all—with this job, or I've just gotten myself into some _serious _shit. My gut told me it was the former, but those red flags in my head from earlier were shrieking the latter. I exhaled sharply and began to read over the two sheets of common printer paper.

...Okay, so all I know is that the guy is an agent at Preventers—wasn't Bowen talking crap about them earlier? I wonder if the other three targets are Preventer agents—he lives in an apartment near the major headquarters on the other side of the city, he is very well trained in combat, so I'll need to wait to attack him until he's unsuspecting or asleep, and that he is away on a mission until tomorrow. I only had a day and a half to find the actual apartment building where he lived, as well as ready my weapons and strategy for the kill. I didn't even get enough time to do some research of my own. This was going to be a challenge, I could already tell...

Once I pretty much had the file memorized, I slipped the two papers back into the envelope and sealed the clasp, before making my way downstairs to the cashier. I paid for my book and quickly asked the girl at the counter for directions. "Hey, do you know where Park Street is? Like the... the Midtown apartment complex there?" I asked cheerily, tucking the bag with the book into my trench coat. She smiled and told me where to find it and how to get there, so now all I had to do was validate those directions by going there myself and finding my target's home. So I left the bookstore and continued on my way to the train station. It took a while to get all the way across the city, because of all the stops, but time passed quickly as I read my new book while I waited to arrive near Park Street. Reading that book was all I could do to shut out the memories of the nightmare that was still haunting me—I refused to let my mind wander. I quickly got off the train as soon as the doors opened, and hurried out into the cold. It was early afternoon now, so the streets were becoming less crowded as people returned from their lunch breaks.

I shivered and glanced up at the pure white sky. A snowstorm was coming. It would strike tonight. I had heard it on the news this morning; not to mention, I could clearly feel the pressure change in all my bones that had been broken in the past. I'd probably take some painkillers for that later, but for now, I just had to deal with the ache and stiffness. Park Street was a good four blocks from the train station, and then it was another two until I actually reached the apartment complex where my target lived. I stood in front of the large, seemingly recently renovated building; the sign over the glass doors leading into the lobby read "The Parks Midtown Apartments". Fancy. I briefly wondered if these apartments were as nice as the one I lived in on the other side of town. I chuckled quietly to myself as I entered the building. Okay, scratch that—judging by the lobby, these were the normal, affordable-rent kind of apartments. Of course a guy working for Preventers would live here. Where I lived was _so _much nicer.

I looked around—there wasn't even a secretary with a computer that I could hack into... so much for finding out my target's name the easy way. All there was, was a map on the wall telling which rooms were on each floor. I quickly scanned it, looking for my target's apartment number... Aha! Apartment number 320, floor seven. So I took the elevator up to the seventh floor—it was the top floor—and wandered around the well lit hallways until I found the door I was looking for. According to my information, he'd be gone until tomorrow—an open invitation for me to snoop around his apartment and see if I could find anything of importance. But then, as I was standing in front of the apartment, my hands shoved in the pockets of my coat, I realized that I had left my lock pick at home... Dammit! I cussed under my breath as I simply turned and left. Before I was out of the building, however, I did a quick sweep of the security systems and emergency exits. I'd need a way out after the hit tomorrow night, when the lobby doors would surely be locked. Satisfied with the escape route I had established, I finally made my way out to the lobby of the apartment complex. I glanced at my watch before leaving—that had taken longer than I had thought.

Back out on the cold street, I hurriedly walked down to a little café I had passed earlier. It was growing darker as the clouds thickened... and I swear it got a lot colder in the time that I was in that apartment building. Well, that's Earth weather for you—especially in mid January, the dead of winter. I entered the warm café, sat down, ordered a cup of coffee and something hot to eat, then took out my book and continued reading from earlier. Hey, just because I was a well known in the Underworld as a skilled assassin, didn't mean that normal people knew or recognized me. To common civilians, I was nothing more than a young business man, seemingly just out of college. Sure, people sometimes gave me weird looks because of my impossibly long braid, but I had long since gotten used to that. And I had long since decided that I would never cut it... wait a sec, let's not get off track.

Anyways, I sat in that café for a while, occasionally looking up from my manga book to gaze around at the other customers. There was a girl about my age sitting at another table—we actually made eye contact for the briefest of moments before I grinned at her (don't forget, I don't like girls like that) and she blushed, looking away—as well as a middle aged man sitting at the counter sipping a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. A young couple, both dressed in business attire, came and went, jabbering on about this and that. It was mid afternoon, so there weren't that many people out an about, but I was fine with that. The less people around me, the better. It meant a smaller chance of getting attacked by someone or found out... Jeez, I'm sounding like Heero now. Heero... My hand tightened on the hot coffee mug as my train of thought circled back around to that nightmare from a few days ago. The sight of his lifeless stare came to my mind's eye and I shuddered, closing my eyes and tensing as if I was in pain. I forced myself to relax, pushing away the memories of the dream and of the one person who I most regretted cutting off all contact with for the past four years. I really did miss Heero... Did he miss me too, maybe? No, that man was too deadpan serious all the time to even have acknowledged me as a fried, I bet. And if he had, I never knew it.

Damn... thinking about him made my head hurt. I needed a nap. With a frown, I quickly swallowed the rest of my coffee—decaf or not, it did nothing to keep me conscious—paid for my meal, and left the café. I had to get away from the memories of Heero, even if doing so was impossible. The walk back to the train station took eternally too long and the wind was beginning to pick up. I had to keep a hand on the rim of my hat to make sure it didn't blow away. When I finally made it to the train, I sat in the back and leaned my head on the dirty Plexiglas window. I did my best to stay awake, but the constant rocking and hum of the engines of the train as it sped down the tracks pulled me under in no time. Heero's betrayed, lifeless stare was the last thing I remembered before falling into the darkness...

When I awoke sometime later, I nearly panicked. I hadn't been dreaming, thankfully, but it took me a few moments to remember where I was and how I got there. I must've gasped or something, because a guy, who hadn't been there when I got on the train, was staring at me. For a second, before my mind fully came back from the haze of oblivion, I though it was Heero who was sitting there, staring at me, but I was corrected. It was just some guy, no older than me by the looks of it, with messy brown hair and a piercing stare. But his eyes weren't even blue like Heero's. I glared at him, as if to say 'What're you lookin at?' until he returned his gaze to the phone in his hands. I really wasn't in the mood to deal with strangers of the staring-at-you type. I looked at my watch, and judging by the time, I had long since missed my stop. Damn. Well, I could either stay on this train until it turned around and got to my stop again, or I could get off and wait in the cold for the other train going in the opposite direction. I think I'll go with the latter... maybe standing in the icy cold for a few minutes will help clear my head. I can take a hot shower when I get home...

When the train finally screeched to a stop, I got off, walking quickly right past the staring guy with the phone. I didn't even bother to look at him as I stepped out into the bitter cold. I took a deep breath through my nose, feeling the sting of the icy air. I didn't mind. There was only a few other people here, waiting for the next train, so I guess it'd be a while. A quick glance at the LED signs on the ceiling confirmed that—jeez, it'd be another twenty minutes until the train arrived, no doubt thanks to weather delays. No wonder there was hardly anybody here—I had learned the hard way that twenty minutes in January was like two hours during the warmer months... So here I stood, shivering in the cold and waiting for the minutes to tick by. I guess you could say I couldn't help it, when my thoughts drifted back to Heero. Hang on a sec...

Why was I thinking about Heero anyways? Why now, of all times? I had managed to keep him out of my mind nearly completely during the past four years, only thinking of him occasionally, so why now? Why was I thinking about the only person I've ever... had feelings for? Oh right... that damn Bowen guy from earlier mentioned him, didn't he? _"If only Pilot 01 had followed your example..."_ Yeah, sometimes I wished that too. But seriously, was that the only reason I was thinking of Heero? The only reason why I couldn't get the image of him dying by my hand, out of my head? The shiver running up my spine said otherwise. I cussed silently under my breath, pulling my trench coat tighter around me. Damn it was cold! I loved this kind of weather, but seriously, it's no fun when you're stuck waiting for a train. If only I hadn't fallen asleep earlier...

Quite a few people were gathering around the train stop now, so I figured it'd be arriving soon. Finally. My prediction had been correct, and not five minutes later, I was sitting in one of the old seats as the train sped down the tracks. I had only gone a few stops too far, so it really wasn't that long of a wait until I was back out in the cold again. The wind seemed stronger as I made my way out to the sidewalk and street. Maybe I should get a cab? It was a good seven blocks back home, and I was really cold... Yeah, why the hell not. That nightmare of Heero haunted me the entire way home.

Not twenty minutes later, I was back in the warm solitude of my apartment. I emptied my pockets and put everything on the table by the door before pulling off my coat, hat and gloves and hanging them up on the rack. I kicked off my shoes as I stumbled over to the thermostat, nearly tripping over them as I went. I turned up the heater a bit before walking to the bedroom. I unbuttoned my black dress shirt as I walked and tossed it to the floor—I'd pick it up later. I stopped for a moment to unzip my black trousers and let them pool on the floor before I continued on my way to the bathroom. Now I was wearing only my boxers as I turned on the shower. Hands acting out of habit, I untied the ribbon at the end of my braid and undid the now-messy plait. I forcibly kept my mind blank as I stood in the shower and let the hot water run over my cold body. When my shower was over, I dried my hair and brushed it out. I braided it and pulled on a pair of warm, black flannel pajamas. I could only hope that I would sleep restfully tonight, since I had an important job tomorrow.

But of course, a few hours later, I lay awake in bed—heart pounding—staring up at the ceiling. It wasn't that I had had a _nightmare_; just I had jolted awake to the memory of that dream from two nights ago. I shivered, even though I was far from cold. Heero... I just _could not_ get him out of my mind. The way those cobalt eyes of his had stared up at me in that dream, the look of betrayal as the life slowly faded. I could still remember it, the events still so vivid in my mind. I rolled over and reached out to open the drawer of the nightstand by my bed. I felt around until I found the old picture frame I had been searching for. I pulled it out, then propped myself up on one arm as I reached to turn on the light. I couldn't help but sigh as I stared at the old photo. It was one I had taken years ago when we were still teenagers, back during the war—it was the only photo I had of Heero and I together... the only photo I had of Heero at all. I had taken it myself, one of my arms slung over his shoulder, the index and middle fingers of my hand making a peace sign, while my other hand held up the camera. I was grinning, and Heero was scowling, just like always. I never looked at this photo anymore for one sole reason: doing so made me want to call Heero right then and there and tell him I wanted to see him again. But I couldn't do that. Our friendship was something I had sacrificed in order to continue life as a killer. I shook my head before studying the picture, gazing into the printed version of Heero's deadly cobalt stare. Were his eyes still so cold? Had he changed at all during the years? Had that angelic face of his gotten even more handsome? I don't know... but maybe someday I'll find the answer to those questions. With that thought still lingering in my mind, I put the photo back in the drawer and turned off the light. I rolled flat on my back, staring up at the blackness that was the ceiling; I listened to the fierce howl of the wind and the storm outside. The sound of the raging snow brought me back to my first winter on Earth. It had been so cold in that rickety old safe house, and looking back, I could've sworn there had been a slight hint of worry on Heero's usually stoic face when I didn't come home from one of my missions until a few days later. Oh, how I missed those carefree days...

I sighed, closing my eyes and rolling over onto my stomach. There were still many hours until the sun rose, and I needed my sleep. I was going to be stuck inside for most of the day tomorrow, anyways, because of the weather, so I might as well do all I could to make the time pass by faster. I thought of Heero as I simply lay there, waiting to be dragged back down to the depths of sleep...

* * *

**and there we go... poor duo fell asleep on the train XD he's lucky there wasnt some creeper sitting next to him when he woke up XD**

**anyways, next chapter tomorrow, either very late or very early, since i'm goin to sanfran for the day (yay!) and yeah, that's all i really have to say. bye!**

**-Shingami out...**


	3. Sneaking In

**next chapter! uhm, not much to say, other than... well that's it. its too early in the morning for me to have a non-scattered brain right now :P**

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Shadows of Death

. . .

Chapter 2

Sneaking In

"_N-No..." I stumbled back, disbelieving. How could I have just... done that? Why the hell did I pull the trigger? _

_Heero... he had been standing near the wall, quietly pleading with me to not shoot him. "Don't do it, Duo. I'm your friend; doesn't that mean anything to you? Would you really kill me— just to follow orders? Do you really want to do this?" he had said. "D-Duo... Please, don't! Won't you answer me? What's wrong with you? Why are you... still killing..." he had said. But the others were already dead... He had been the last one. His eyes had been so fierce, just like I had remembered them to be, staring at me coldly while his voice and expression said otherwise. I hadn't been able to answer his questions; I hadn't been able to lower my gun. _

_There had been a hurt look in Heero's eyes when my finger tensed on the trigger. His gaze had flickered down to the weapon in my grasp, before our eyes were locked again. If it had been anyone besides Heero, he would've been terrified of this, would've been begging for his life. I had hardly felt it when I pulled the trigger of the gun, when it fired and the bullet hit true to its mark. I had watched almost emotionlessly as Heero fell back into the wall, blood sputtering from his chest. _

_That was when I had stumbled back a step in disbelief, gasping in fear. I had just killed him... Heero Yuy... my best friend... the man I adored. I wanted to run to him, apologize to him as he sat there on the floor, his life fading, but I knew it would do no good. How could he forgive me, this close to death? That fierce glare of his was gone now, having been replaced by a betrayed, hollow, lifeless gaze. Blood was dribbling from his mouth as his gasps for breath grew weaker and weaker. He was drowning in his own blood—I hadn't even made it a clean, quick kill. Heero was suffering. My hand was trembling terribly as I took a few steps forward, raising my gun once more. His hollow gaze followed me; the pain in those dulled cobalt orbs was so clear. He just sat there, dieing and helpless as I readied my gun for another shot. I aimed it right between those fading blue eyes of his, "I'm so sorry, Heero," and pulled the trigger once again. _

. . .

I bolted upright in bed, crying out and shivering in an icy sweat. Lost to the depths of a numb daze, I rose from the bed. I slowly walked over to the window, my bare feet on the cold floor, standing in front of the hot radiator that was below the windowsill, letting my body warm up. If I had just woken from some terrible nightmare, I wasn't aware of it. I didn't remember. All I could think about was Heero, how he had died by my hand in that dream. Why could I not shake this feeling? It was just a dream, and I needed to get over it. What if I screwed up on that hit tonight because of it?

I growled in frustration as I stared out into the blackness past the window. I was coming out of that dreamy haze now, and I was just pissed with myself. I hadn't seen Heero in years. We both took different paths after the wars. The two of us had grown apart. Heero was nothing more than a part of my past. Not my present. Not my future. He was nothing more than a picture and a name, and I had to move on, dammit! I couldn't deal with this shit right now! I was starting what could very well be the hardest, most important job of my whole career tonight, and I could not afford to screw up! I balled my hands into tight fists, turning away from the window. The idea to tear up that one picture I had of Heero came to mind, but I quickly banished it. Even if I had moved on, there was no way I could destroy one of the most important memories from my past.

It was a long while before the sun rose, since it was so deep into the winter months. Nonetheless, by the time it finally did, I was already down in the apartment complex's huge gym. (Yeah, I lived in a place that high scale.) There were only a few other people here this early in the morning, but they were mostly on the treadmills and whatnot. But I just stayed where I was at, focusing on lifting and lowering the weighted bar that I was bench pressing at the moment. It was heavy, but that was only because I was still tired from my lack of a good, restful sleep last night. Normally, I wouldn't be having any problems. I heaved an exasperated sigh as I hefted the bar back up onto the support and sat up, rubbing my sweaty palms on my shorts. I twisted, grabbing the side of the bench and pulling until I heard and felt the satisfying _pop-pop-pop_ of my spine—I repeated that, turning in the other direction. I stood and made my way over to the treadmills; most of the people—not like there had been many to begin with—were gone now. So I ran on one of the treadmills for a while, keeping at a leisurely jog while I thought over my strategy for tonight.

First of all, I'd have to figure out how I'd kill the guy. This was usually the easiest one to figure out, since poisons and other methods really were only convenient in certain situations. Anyways, with my luck, a Preventer of such high caliber—guessing that this guy who I had to kill was _that_ well trained—would be immune to the poison I decided to use. So obviously, I'd go with the gun. As for getting in there, I'd probably need to break into his place some time late in the afternoon or evening, so that I'd be there when he got beck from his mission. The info sheet Bowen had given me said that the location of my target's mission was a good seven hours away, and pick-up was around noon my time. So in the very least, he wouldn't be back until seven. And knowing Preventers, there were all kinds of procedures to go through directly after returning from a mission... So once I got into the guy's place, I guess I'd make myself right at home under his bed and wait for his return. Once my target got back to his apartment, he'd probably go straight to bed, so I'd wait until he was sound asleep to strike...

When I was done with my little jog to nowhere, I hopped off the treadmill and walked over to the benches on the far side of the gym. I grabbed my towel, wiping the sweat from under my unruly bangs, before practically chugging half my water bottle. I took the elevator back up to my floor, feeling a bit too out of it to take the stairs like I normally did. I took a long shower, focusing on everything I did, as to not let my mind stray to darker thoughts. Once I was dry and dressed, I made a quick breakfast and sat at the kitchen table. I read the last chapter of that manga book I got yesterday before getting up and stretching towards the ceiling. I yawned hugely, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was midmorning already...

So, what now? I had a few hours to kill before I had to be anywhere; it was too much of a blizzard outside to go out if I didn't have to, so what? Even though I had always been anxious to sit around and do nothing when I was younger, I rarely did so anymore. I was always out and about, exploring the city, browsing the isles at the bookstore, gathering data on my current target... I felt almost at a loss. I actually stood there for a few minutes, pondering about what to do, when I finally decided that I might as well just pack everything up now, and go hang out at the book store for a few hours. It's not like I had anything better to do, anyways. Not to mention, all those books would surely keep my mind occupied enough to ward off memories of that nightmare...

. . .

Alright, well the bookstore was certainly a good idea, but damn, it was still windy out there! The snow itself had stopped for now, but the storm was far from over. I wouldn't be surprised if the power went out more than once during the next few days. I shivered as I sat in the same chair as yesterday, back at the top floor of the bookstore—my shiver wasn't from the cold, however, but more from the memories of how icy Earth's winter months could get. For the past few years, I've been on the colonies during the winter, either taking a vacation or taking care of some jobs; but I can't say that I've seen real, _Earth_ snow since the days of the war... Maybe that's why I was having trouble with memories of...?

No! Don't think about that now! My body tensed as I forced my thoughts to go blank for several moments. No... I had managed to keep 'that' out of my mind nearly all morning. I was doing so good...

I frowned, focusing on the black and white pages of the book in my hands. The cover of this manga had looked interesting—yeah, I judged a book by its cover; so sue me—so I picked it up and started reading. It was pretty good so far. There was a small stack of manga on the floor next to me, all books that I wanted to read while I was here. I'd just make a day of it, hanging out here in the bookstore until it was time to start my job... It was already noon by the time I got here, so I'd stay for a good four or five hours. After that, I'd have to head over to the other side of town—it'd take a while to get there because of the storm. My target would surely be an easy kill, given I was careful and didn't screw up. But I was sure I wouldn't—I was confident in my abilities. Hey, Bowen _did_ hire me for my _"pure skill, accuracy, and determination to get this done right". _There was no way I could afford to screw up on something like this.

Time passed quickly as I sat there, reading the books. At about four thirty, I put back all the books—hey, its not like I could buy them and bring them with me—then headed to the coffee shop on the first floor. I got a quick something to eat before bundling up and making my way out into the cold and snow. I managed to get to the train station, which was about three blocks away from the bookstore, without freezing or getting blown over by the fierce wind. Like yesterday, there weren't many people on the train, but that was probably because it was a bit too early for people to be leaving work just yet. So I sat there, holding my black shoulder bag—in it, I carried all my tools of the trade—in my lap and staring blankly out the window. This was it, I was about to start my job. It was just another hit; nothing more, nothing less. It'd be easy, like always, just sneak into the dude's apartment, hide under the bed, and wait. If you think I'm nervous, I'm not—promise. I sighed, hoping that this would just be a straightforward mission, no disruptions like last time, no one else to witness the kill; just one clean shot, and then time to go home. Maybe this kill would help clear my mind, replace that troubling nightmare with something I was used to. The memories of the corpses of people I did not know never bothered me, since it was something I had grown used to seeing during the war—all those people I killed, soldier and civilian; mercilessly sent to the other side.

When the train came to a stop, I hurried out to the street, hailing a cab as quickly as I could. I didn't want to stand out in the frigid air for longer than I had to. I took the cab to about a block away from the apartment complex where my target lived, then walked the rest of the way. I checked my watch, it was about twenty after six—damn, it had taken longer to get here than I had anticipated. When I got to The Parks Midtown Apartments, I slipped down a side alley until I came to one of the many fire exits. The wind and snow had no effect here, thanks to the closeness of the two tall buildings making up the alley, so I took my time, being careful, as I set up the device that would allow me to open the fireproof door without any alarms being set off. All it really did, was bypass the alarm, making it think the door was still shut even when I had it wide open. So with that set up, I pulled open the door and entered the large building. I was now in the back staircase that I had found yesterday, when I was finding a safe way to and from the place that bypassed all security systems. It was warm as I took the stairs up to the top floor, then exited out to the main hall. It took me a moment to get my bearings before I hurried down the maze of hallways till I found my target's apartment. I pulled out my lock pick—the door was open in five seconds flat. Glancing around quickly to make sure there was no one, I opened the door and entered the apartment.

The faint smell of the air in the chilly apartment was the first thing I noticed. It was almost... _familiar_? But I was immune to the light scent before I had a chance to really think about it. It was as if the person who lived here had been gone for quite some time. Shaking my head, I turned and locked the door the way it had been—I couldn't help but notice the few extra locks and the chain on the door; I guess this guy was either paranoid, or just such a hardcore soldier that he didn't even feel safe in his own home... which was something even _I_ could relate to, back when the end of the war was still something new. I shook my head, turning to take in the small apartment. It looked lived in; the kitchen was directly in front of me, at the back end of the apartment. There was a loveseat sofa, a coffee table, and a TV to my right, along with a closed door that was leading to what would be the bedroom. The place seemed very empty, like that feeling you get—as if something was missing—when you walk into a house with no furniture or people, no signs of life. I wondered briefly how long the guy had been gone on his mission. I heaved a quiet sigh, making my way over to the bedroom. I opened the door and walked in, closing it behind me—I had to leave everything the way it had been, so that nothing seemed out of place. I couldn't let my target know I was here, now could I?

Once again, an almost familiar smell hit my nose as I walked into the bedroom. But I shook it off, immediately deeming it as my imagination when a certain name and face came to my mind. I didn't have the time, or the focus, to think about Heero right now. Nonetheless, if the light had been on in here, I might've noticed the details of the dark room. I might've seen the picture frame on the desk by the window, with a photo of what I would've guessed was of my target, and his best friend... But that didn't matter now as I quickly squeezed under the bed, pulling my bag with me. Making hardly any noise at all, I pulled my gun out from my bag and simply laid there in the darkness, waiting for my target to get home.

It was a good half hour, forty-five minutes until I heard the front door open and close. I couldn't help but smirk as I heard the sound of all those locks being secured. Sorry pal, but you can't lock out the monster that's already hiding under your bed.

I faintly heard the sound of him rummaging around in the kitchen for a few minutes—no doubt getting a drink of water, by the sound of it—before the bedroom door opened and swung closed a moment later. I watched silently as he limped past—all I could see were the dark shadows of heavy, steel-toe boots—making his way to the bathroom. The light on that side of the room turned on and I could see the muddy boots clearly now. I watched as he walked with a heavy limp back to the side of the bed, and a few moments later, he was kicking off his boots, and his shirt and Preventers jacket dropped to the floor. I could clearly see, from my hiding place under the bed, that there were many bloodied stains coloring the clothing. So he was hurt, thus explaining the limp. Dirty black trousers dropped a moment later, and then he was walking back to the bathroom. My target disappeared into the separated part of the bathroom, and I could hear the squeak of the knobs as the shower was turned on. I heaved a mental sigh, keeping absolutely silent as I hid in the dark shadows under the bed.

I stared blankly at the bloody heap of clothes and muddy boots as I waited for my target to shower, bandage his wounds—judging by how long he stood there, in front of the sink and mirror—and climb into bed. Sure, I could've just killed the guy while he was in the shower, completely unsuspecting, but I never liked doing that. Killing people in the shower was not only very cliché—you know, like from that one really old horror movie?—but it was messy. Blood went everywhere, stained the shower; and then you were stuck with a wet corpse. I thought it was better to just let the guy dry himself off and go to bed, or whatever. The part of me that allowed for somewhat merciful kills—only on occasion, mind you—said it was best to 'take care of' my target while he was asleep, or otherwise completely unsuspecting, that way there would be no suffering. No suffering... like how Heero had in that nightmare... I shuddered, squinting shut my eyes and willing my mind to focus on the task at hand. I was able to do so as the bed above me creaked. All I had to do now was wait until he was sound asleep... and then I could _strike_.

* * *

**CLIFFHANGERRR! HAAA! **

**okay, not psychotic no mores... maybe XD well, next chapter tomorrow, hopefully. plwese reviewwww :D**


	4. Up Against

**ohhhhboy. duo's gonna kill his target! he's gonna kill him! really!**

* * *

Shadows of Darkness

. . .

Chapter 3

Up Against

So I just laid there on my stomach, gun in hand, for about another hour until I was sure that my target was sound asleep. Carefully, quietly, I pulled myself out from under the bed and stood, creeping over to stand by the window. There was a streetlight nearby, and the dim yellow light flooded up past the snow of the storm and into the room. The dark silhouette of my shadow was like an eerie mark, staining the solid color of the heavy quilt that was draped over the man quietly sleeping in the bed. I raised my gun, the safety already off and my finger tense on the trigger, gazing silently at the unmoving figure. All this time, I had been calling him 'my target'; there was no name, no face to this title, just a figure that apparently needed to die. But I stared at his face, the light of the streetlamp shining in and allowing my adjusted eyes to see perfectly fine in the semidarkness. I needed to at least put a face to this figure. I wanted to remember what he looked like, that way I could do research afterwards, find out who he really was, why Bowen wanted him killed, who he had been during the years of the war...

But those thoughts stopped dead when I realized _who_ I was looking at, who it was that I was about to kill. I instantly recognized that angelic face, the mess of chocolate brown hair and the deathlike stillness of his body as he slept. N-no... This wasn't... t-this couldn't... I had to be in the wrong place... I just had to be... t-there's no way... "Heero," I gasped almost inaudibly, stumbling back a few steps until my backside hit the desk. The image of Heero's dieing eyes from that nightmare flashed across my vision as I accidentally knocked something over, as whatever it was clattered loudly on the desk top—vaguely, I registered that it sounded like a picture frame. The feeling of fear, disbelief, overcame me, the feeling I had from that nightmare... after I killed him... when Heero had been sitting there, dieing. In that instant, I realized: that nightmare was coming true... I was about to kill Heero, my best friend... and... And those three other hits? Were they the other ex-pilots? W-was Bowen trying to kill them all off? _"I don't know what I'd do if you had joined those pansy Preventers like the rest of the Gundam pilots... If only Pilot 01 had followed your example... I need you to take care of four killings..."_ He did... Bowen wanted the four of them dead... W-was he doing this because I was the only one who had taken a path he approved of? Would he put out a hit for me, too? Why? Why was this happening? What—

However, all these thoughts happened in the shortest of moments, before my focus was redirected to Heero springing up from the bed, having woken at the sound of the picture falling, and tackling me to the floor. It all seemed to happen in slow motion as I watched the man, who I hadn't seen in over four years, attack me like I was a total stranger. I just stared up into that fierce cobalt glare of his, the color and intensity of it unchanged after all these years, as he pinned me to the ground and wrapped his hands tightly around my throat. I didn't struggle in the slightest. I hardly registered the fact that I couldn't breathe, that he was sitting on my chest, each of his knees holding my arms down so that I could not reach up and shoot him... all there was, was that slightly confused, yet hateful glare in his eyes as he held me there for several moments. That stare of his said everything; how he was doing everything in his power to defend himself from the threat, how he was sleepy and confused, unable to fully assess what was going on... and how much his injuries were hurting him as he tried to dispose of the intruder. After a little while, I faintly began to notice this strange sort of gagging sound, and it took far too long for me to realize that it was me, gasping for breath as Heero kept his tight grip over my throat. It was clear that he did not recognize me... My vision began to blur as I stared up into his cobalt glare—was he going to kill me? "H-Hee... ro..." I managed to rasp, as my body, which hadn't even struggled against the fact that I was being choked, began to give up the fight. His hands were gone from my throat a fraction of a moment later, and for the first time in years, I heard that familiar monotone that I had missed so much.

"Duo...? Why are you here?" I couldn't reply, too busy filling my stinging lungs with air. He scooted back, sitting against the wall and staring at me, almost in shock. I slowly sat up, feeling as if I was lost in a dream. There was no way this could be real... Heero... "Are you alright? What—" but then he saw the gun in my hand, saw the silencer that was screwed onto the end of the barrel. His voice died in his throat and he was staring at me in complete disbelief. I had never seen such expression in his eyes before.

I still couldn't reply for several moments. I just stared at the white bandages that were poking out from underneath his pajamas. From what I could see in the darkness, he had a split lip—as well as a cut on his cheek, which was held shut by two little strips of bandage. He was holding his right arm close to his chest, a clear giveaway that it was causing him quite a bit of pain and discomfort. Finally, I found my voice, "I came to... kill you..." I breathed, so quiet that I'm not even sure he heard it. I felt frozen, immobile, unable to move as I sat there, staring at him. Heero said nothing for several moments, simply staring at me. If he had heard me, there was no visible reaction... And yet, I could almost sense him thinking, that computer like mind of his processing every bit of data and trying to figure out _why._

For those many minutes, the only sound was the raging of the blizzard outside. Finally, he broke it, asking nearly as quietly as I had, "Why? Why did you come to kill me?" Yeah, he heard me. But there was no emotion in that question, as if it was the last piece of the puzzle his mind needed to figure this all out.

I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn't. I looked away after a moment, my hand tensing on my gun. There's no way I could kill Heero. No way at all. Yet, Bowen wouldn't have messed up on who I was supposed to kill... And it all made sense now. There had been no picture, no name... because he knew how close I was to Heero. He thought, that once I got myself in this deep, I'd just keep going and finish the job... but there's no way I could do that! I wasn't the kind of guy who could kill his friends without feeling anything! I couldn't kill Heero, even if my life, or if the lives of everyone on L-2, depended on it. I just couldn't. And I just sat there for a few more moments, still unable to think of any words to say that would explain what was going on. Heero was just staring at me, I could feel his cobalt gaze boring into me as I continued to look away. Part of me just wanted to embrace him and apologize for not keeping in touch for all these years, while the more rational part of my mind feared for what Heero would do to me when I went into detail about why I was here. Memories from the war resurfaced at that, reminding me of how I always thought he would surely kill me when I failed a mission. A slightly distorted image came to my mind—it was a mix of his hateful glare from way back when, with the dieing, dulled blue gaze that had been haunting me ever since that nightmare... I shivered.

I can't handle this. What will he do? What will Heero say when I tell him that I'm here to take his life, and then get paid for doing so? That I make a living by killing people, as if the war had never ended? I... I don't want to die. I don't want him to kill me. I don't want him to glare at me in absolute _loathing_. "Duo," he said my name, almost hesitantly, and I was dragged away from my thoughts and back to where I sat on the floor, only a few feet away from the man I couldn't get out of my mind.

I finally met that stare of his—it wasn't hateful. Yet, my heart _sank_ at the questioning, confused, almost hurt look in that cobalt gaze. He still couldn't make sense of why I was here, as if he didn't believe it when I said that I came to put an end to his existence. My eyes locked with his and my mouth seemed to start speaking before I even thought of what to say, "I'm sorry, Heero, about..." My voice kind of trailed off as I gestured to the gun that was still tightly clutched in my hand. I saw Heero tense, his eyes flickering down to the weapon for a moment, then back up to meet my violet gaze—it was as if... as if he didn't trust me. Was that why he had kept so quiet...? Why he had sounded hesitant to bring me back from my muses? I forced myself to brush it off, changing the subject. I wanted to avoid talking about coming here to kill him for as long as I could, "Are you okay, Heero? You're hurt..." Once again, my body acted before I gave the okay, pushing myself up onto my knees and reaching out to try and grasp at the arm that he was holding close to his chest. Despite the darkness, I could clearly make out the contrast of deep red blood staining the sleeve of his light colored pajama top. He was hurt, badly by the looks of it.

And yet, my heart seemed to crack as he backed away from me, keeping up a distance of at least three feet between us. I quickly put down my gun, pushing it away from the both of us, far enough across the floor that I couldn't get to it easily—I hoped that that would maybe ease his fear, but it didn't. "Don't come near me. What do you want, Duo? Why are you _really_ here?" Heero asked, his voice as cold as the raging storm outside; he eyed me warily.

"I..." I started, unable to meet his gaze now. I just stared at the slowly growing dark spot on his sleeve. There was no avoiding it now; I had to tell him. "I have a lot to tell you, Heero... You—you don't know what kind of career I went into after the war, right?" my voice was quiet, borderline shaky as I forced myself to look him in the eye again.

Heero nodded, not saying a word. Nonetheless, his eyes silently spoke his question, _'Where are you going with this?'_

I sighed, quickly trying to figure out how I was going to say this. I decided short and sweet would have to do. I took a deep breath before saying, "Well I became a hitman. An assassin. I've been making a living by killing whoever my employers tell me to. And you... Heero..." I stopped when the look in his eyes got very sad, seemingly disappointed.

"You... All this time? You've been—despite how many times you told me how much you couldn't wait for the war to be over, so you could stop killing innocents...?" I looked away at that, knowing that his words were true. Back then, back when I used to say that, I hadn't known how _tightly_ the monster inside had taken hold. I hadn't known it would be so hard to let go of the soldier, the killer that I had become. I hadn't known...

"Yeah, I remember that. But you know how it goes, Heero... even you, the best off out of all of us, you joined Preventers because you _knew_ that you'd never be able to lead a completely normal life. Just because you didn't have to kill anymore... didn't mean that you were able to stop... That's why I took the job that I have." I was rambling now, my tone of voice borderline desperate, trying to get him to believe me, "It's exciting. It's challenging. It brings back all the 'best' parts of the war, without constantly having to risk my life. I've become so detached, Heero, it doesn't even matter anymore when I see the bloody corpses fall. It's gotten to the point where all I do is kill people—there's no reason behind it or anything to fight for. Just, killing; it's who I am now..." When my voice finally died, I found that there were tears in my eyes. I was frozen with shock when Heero reached out with his hurt arm, closing the few feet between us, to wipe away the tears as they trailed down my cheeks. I was completely immobile as his fingers lingered on my skin as he spoke.

"Duo," I was mesmerized by the depth of his stare, unable to look away, "I understand why you took that job, just... not why you're here. Are you really here to kill me? Someone hired you to... put an end to me, and you accepted the job?" My frozen body shuddered as I saw a somewhat haunted look take over his cobalt gaze. No... Now it was me backing away, terrified of the memory of that nightmare...

I pulled myself up, standing and staring down at him. I'm sure the expression on my face told him that I had taken this hit knowingly, that I had intended to kill him from the start. I briefly wondered if Heero would even believe me if I told him the truth... but I had to. I couldn't lie to him; I couldn't lie to anyone really, but Heero most of all. It just wasn't right. "I didn't know... that it was you. Bowen, the guy who put out the hit, actually gave me the info about where you lived and when you'd be 'available'... but there was no name or photo. All I knew, was that this was the first hit of four, and that my target was a Preventer agent. He didn't even give me the info for the others yet, just what I needed to know about you. That's it."

"First of four...?" Heero repeated, rising to his feet. He was clutching his arm again, and I briefly wondered how bad his other injuries were.

I nodded, replying quietly, "I think... his intention was to have me kill Trowa, Quatre and Wufei as well, leaving me as the only ex-Gundam pilot alive. It'd make sense if a hit to kill me went out soon after I finished this job..."

"Thank you, Duo..." Heero said solemnly, voice low. But before I could ask why he said that, he continued, "...For not going through with it. Thank you for not killing me, or the others..."

I had my arms around him before he could even finish his sentence. I was careful not to hug him too tightly, and I didn't really care as the blood from his arm stained the front of my black coat. A moment later, Heero's arms were gently wrapped around my waist, and I shivered at the closeness. Heero was taller than me now, I noticed distantly, and his body was so solid, no doubt even stronger than it had been when we were young. "I missed you," I mumbled into his shoulder, not even caring that I had come here with an intent to kill...

"I did too. Four years was too long... That old photo of the two of us was—"

I cut him off, finishing the sentence for him, "All that I had left of my best friend. I still remember the look you had given me when I told you to keep a copy of that picture... it was like you hadn't believed that I was going away..."

I felt Heero sigh, his arms still wrapped around my waist, "It hadn't taken me long to realize that you weren't coming back... you had disappeared, and it was only because I knew you so well that I knew you weren't dead."

"And I occasionally asked one of the information dealers that worked for Preventers, how you were doing... Heero, I don't think I can go any longer without you with me every step of the way... You're too important to me to forget." I looked up at him, staring into those deep cobalt orbs. After a few moments, he released me and we sat down beside each other on the bed. I stood up after a minute or so, though, reaching over to turn on the lamp on his desk. Light flooded the room and the wet blood stain on his sleeve was even clearer.

"The first aid kit is under the sink," he said, answering the question that I was just about to ask. I quickly got it, as well as a damp cloth. I made my way back to where Heero was sitting on the bed. He was already unbuttoning his pajama top as I opened up the first aid kit. I gently unraveled the bloodied bandages on his forearm, frowning when I saw that it was a long gash that had clearly reopened.

"Jeez, when did you get this?" I asked jokingly, gesturing to the wound as I cleaned it as best as I could. I continued with that tone of voice, shaking my head in sarcastic disapproval, unable to keep from smiling. Despite the fact that I hadn't spoke to him in over four years, I knew for a fact that Heero did not change. "And knowing you, you didn't get any medical attention, you bandaged all these yourself, and you're not even gonna let a doctor check out that limp of yours."

"I came straight home after returning from my mission. And that one was from... yesterday, I think. And my leg is fine, there's just another big cut in my thigh, and my knee got dislocated. I took care of it, though." I couldn't help but scoff at that—of course he'd say it was fine. Typical Heero. I wasn't surprised when he didn't even flinch or wince as I began stitching up the half-inch deep gash in his arm. There were a few moments of silence before he said, "And I'm sorry I attacked you, earlier. I didn't recognize you until you said my name... You look quite a bit older than the last time I saw you."

"And so do you," I replied a moment later, grinning, having finished suturing the cut. "You look a lot stronger, and you're definitely bigger than you used to be. But your eyes are the same, maybe even more intense... I don't know." I bandaged up the cut with fresh gauze, before putting everything back in the kit and returning it to its proper place. Heero followed me, washing the blood that had gotten on his hand while he had been clutching that wound, before fetching another top from his dresser. Not a word was said as I pushed his hands out of the way and buttoned the flannel shirt for him, before leading him back the bed and sitting down beside him. "I think..." I said, finally breaking the silence, "that I'll give up my title as 'greatest hitman of our generation'... and join Preventers. How does that sound?" I looked at him, all senses of fear and distrust, forgotten.

"That sounds like a great idea..." I could hear the faint essence of a smile in his voice, "But will you be able to do it? I mean, will all those people you work for allow you to quit?" he asked, wrapping his arm around my waist again.

"I work freelance, only doing jobs for people that I want to, so I'm sure it won't be too much of a problem. And there's so many other guys out there... they'll get the job done fine without me. Anyways, passing up this job will take such a hit to my rep, I'm sure nobody will want me anymore," I chuckled bitterly at that, knowing that, because I chose not to kill Heero and the others, that I couldn't go back even if I wanted to. Nonetheless, though I didn't say it, I was sure that _at least_ one or two of the big guys would want me dead for ditching... I reached to put my hand over Heero's, taking it from my side and lacing our fingers together. "Although, there _is_ one more kill I would like to take care of before I leave for real." Heero looked at me then, questioning, before I answered, "I'd like to get rid of the guy that put out this job. Someone like him doesn't deserve to live another day. I know where to find him, so I'll probably just go kill him as soon as I leave here..."

Heero sighed, "You always have been one for brutal revenge."

I leaned my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes; it was a few minutes before I spoke, "I couldn't get you out of my head these past few days... I had a nightmare that I had... killed you, and the dream just refused to fade. It was like a warning, I guess..." Heero pulled me closer to him in a comforting embrace, holding me tight. I sighed, remembering that time, all those years ago, when the two of us had made known the fact that we cared for each other in a way that was deeper than friendship; I guess you could say we had feelings for each other, that we liked each other. But because of the war that had still been raging on, Heero and I had agreed to keep the relationship no more than platonic, putting away whatever desire we may have had until the war was over... But when I had left, the possibility of that loving relationship seemed to get postponed, if it even existed anymore. And yet, the way Heero was holding me, and the closeness between us, it was like those four years had never been. Is this what true friendship means? That no matter where life takes us, we'll still always be there for one another? I sighed quietly, looking up at him. I didn't want to be just friends anymore. I wanted to be able to love him in a way that was more than friendship.

And when Heero leaned in and gently kissed me on the lips, my heart soared. "I don't want to be just friends anymore," he whispered, as if he had been thinking the same thoughts that I had. "I don't want you to ever have to leave my side again... I love you, Duo, I always have..."

I turned, facing him and looking up into those intense cobalt eyes. "I love you too, Heero. I want to stay with you forever," I replied quietly, hardly able to believe that this was finally happening. It had been so long... I had gone for so long without Heero by my side... He gently took my face in his hands, his soft lips meshing with mine in a long, heated kiss. This was... too good to be true. It was like nothing mattered anymore. Not the past few days. Not my last hit. Not the nightmare that had been leaving me sleepless. Not the fact that my way of life these past four years had just come to a very abrupt end... No, none of it seemed to matter, now that I was back with Heero. Now that we could finally love each other the way we had always wanted to.

My hands reached up to tangle my fingers in his short, brown hair as he eased the two of us to lie back on the bed. He kissed me demandingly and I returned it, biting at his bottom lip and loving the warm taste of his mouth. Many moments later, when Heero finally broke the kiss, I gently pushed him back. I didn't want to, but I really had to go. It would be best if I could take out Bowen before sunrise. And Heero... was still hurt; he needed to rest. "Heero, I should probably go... I have to go 'take care of' my final hit..." I said quietly, sitting up on the bed. He sat up next to me and I pulled him in for a light kiss on the lips. "Sleep for a while—I'll come back in a few hours, okay? You're hurt... and you should have someone here to keep an eye on you."

Heero nodded, and I could see in his eyes that he didn't want me to leave. "I'll be back," I promised, rising from the bed. Not saying a word, I went to retrieve my gun, tucking it into my coat. I knelt by the foot of the bed and reached underneath, pulling out my bag—I could feel Heero staring at me, confused. "I was hiding out under here earlier, waiting for you to get home, so I could..." I sighed, shaking my head, before simply turning and walking to the door.

"Wait," Heero said, and I turned. He limped the few steps towards me, then hugged me tight, one last time. "I love you," he whispered, his soft lips brushing against mine. His arms were loose around my waist, and it was so hard to leave.

"I love you too, Heero," I said, turning away and continuing on my way to the door. When I had my hand on the knob, I turned, glancing back at him as he stood there by the foot of the bed. "Get some rest, I'll be back later—promise." And then I was gone.

* * *

**nah, he's not gonna kill him. **

**i dont think i really wrote the whole prolonged-relationship very well. i'm sorry. there's really like only one more thing in this fic that i'm happy with, but the rest of it is kinda eh. in my opinion, at least. well, next chapter tomorrow!**


	5. One for Brutal Revenge

**ah! sorry for the late update... meant to do it this morning, then ran out of time, then forgot until now. **

**second to last chapter! enjoy!**

* * *

Shadows of Darkness

. . .

Chapter 4

One for Brutal Revenge

When I stepped back out into the alleyway, pulling the device off the door and putting it back in my bag, it was pitch dark. The only light was coming from the mouth of the alley, from the streetlight that was most likely the same one outside Heero's bedroom window. The storm had let up for now, the wind still fierce, but only a light flurry falling. And as I made my way back out onto the street, crossing onto the other side and heading back towards the train station, I could've sworn I felt Heero watching me from his window. It had been so hard to leave, but something very important had to be done. After this though, Heero and I could spend all the time together that we wanted to...

I was the only person on the dimly lit train as it sped along the tracks. I had sunk into a very dark mood, growing more and more pissed with Bowen and myself as the seconds continued to tick by. I should've seen this coming. I should've paid more attention to the clues he had given me. If this had been four or five years ago, when the war was still raging on, I wouldn't have missed those clues about his intentions. I would've seen this entire thing coming. I would've prevented it. And yet... if I had... would I have still met Heero again? Was this supposed to be? I let out a low growl, my grip tightening on the strap of my bag. Of course. Of course I would've still met Heero again. Maybe not as soon as I had, but Heero and I would've found each other sooner or later. I was going to make Bowen pay for all this. It was his fault that I had nearly killed Heero. I clenched shut my eyes as What Ifs began to cross my train of thought. I couldn't—didn't want to think about stuff like that right now. I really had to focus on the task at hand, and prepare myself for putting an end to Bowen. It wouldn't take long to kill him once I got there, given everything went as I had assumed.

So when the train stopped, I disappeared into the shadow of night. I slinked through the shadows, hurriedly making my way to the building where I had met with Bowen just the other morning. That building was home to not only his company, but Bowen himself as well. I had done some research on him in the past, and unless things had changed since then, Bowen's residence was the top floor of the skyscraper. Seemed a little bit overkill to me, but hey, if you didn't have to commute everyday to get to work, you were a lucky guy. Nonetheless, Bowen's luck had gone into the freaking _negatives_ the moment he decided to try to get me to kill Heero. Nothing could save him from me now.

I broke into the building the same way as I had earlier, to get into Heero's apartment complex. I had to be extra careful about security guards and cameras, because if I got caught, it was all over. Of course, a few of Bowen's allies would figure out it was me anyway, but why hasten the inevitable? Not to mention, if they got footage of me sneaking around here, then they'd have actual, viable _proof_. And that, my friends, would be very bad. So I stood at the bottom of the stairwell, staring up and sort of glaring into the darkness above. There's no way I was gonna take the stairs to get to the 45th storey. No way, no how. I decided that it would be best to climb the stairs till I was a few floors above ground level, and then sneak out to the elevator and take that the rest of the way. However, elevator meant security cam and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to avoid getting caught on film. Oh well. I'd just have to shoot out the camera, and then infiltrate the security office and destroy all the evidence. Fun.

When I made it to the third floor, I slipped out into the dimly lit building. The only light was coming in from an open door to my right, most likely an office. I paid no mind to it and hurried through the shadows; I pressed the glowing up button on the elevator, waiting impatiently for the doors to open. Just when I was about to jam the button again, the doors opened and light flooded out from within the elevator. I aimed my gun, the safety already off, and stepped in. It was too easy to find the camera in the ceiling, and sparks were flying from the broken circuits in only seconds. It took me a few moments to find the button to the top floor, to Bowen's residence, but when I did, I opened my bag and fished out my old digital lock hacker from during the days of the war; I then proceeded to use it to bring the elevator to the 45th floor, without Bowen's key code. The elevator was slow, and it took forever as I watched the numbers on the LED screen above the door gradually increase. Finally, as it was nearing the top, I readied my gun and hid by the side of the doors. When the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open, I jammed the Door Open button and waited for the curious security guards to wander in and try to figure out what was going on. There were two of them, and they were on the floor in moments, whimpering from the pain of their non-life threatening gunshot wounds. I kicked them both in the head, knocking them out cold. I hit the 5th floor button and quickly exited the elevator, becoming one with the shadows. From what I could see in the large, dim room, this was the foyer of Bowen's residence. There were two large, fancy wood doors in the wall opposite the elevator... and a 'mysterious' lack of guards on either side. I smirked evilly, making my way through the empty room to the doorway. I didn't have to worry about cameras here, since Bowen surely had none in his own home. I pulled out my lock kit, and opened the door, not even bothering to check if it was locked in the first place.

When I walked through the doors, I came to a long, narrow hallway, stretching from my left to my right. It was dark where I was at the moment, but there was light coming from the end to my left. I crept silently towards it. When I got to the end of the hallway, I saw that this was the living room or sorts; the entire wall across from the mouth of the hall was made up of windows, much like how Coleman's place had been when I killed him a few days ago. God, that seemed like so long ago... I had hardly stuck my head out of the shadows, glancing around, when—

"I knew you'd come," stated Bowen's too cool, overconfident voice. I frowned deeply as I stepped out into the open, not even bothering to conceal my gun. He smirked when he laid eyes on me, taking a slow drink from some sort of alcoholic beverage. He sat in a large, suede chair, a newspaper folded up on the small table to the side—it looked like he hadn't even read it. "I knew you'd come. Whether it was because you figured out who it was that I hired you to kill after it was already too late, or you figured it out before you could kill him, and chickened out. Either way, I knew you'd come here. I disabled the security cameras as a little gift to you. So which is it? Did you kill him? Or no?" Bowen's voice grew more and more evil with every word, each syllable that left his mouth practically dripping with the acrid stench of alcohol.

My grip tightened on my gun, my eyes narrowing into a dangerous glare. I was pissed. And I wasn't a safe guy to hang out around when I lost my temper... "Why you...!" I hissed, raising my gun and pulling the trigger, the bullet passing right through Bowen's glass, as well as the hand that was holding it. He howled in pain, clutching the bleeding hole in his palm. "Why did you do this? WHY DID YOU TRY TO MAKE ME KILL HEERO?" I screeched, taking a step closer and aiming my gun again, this time readying it to shoot off his left ear and the petty gold earring he wore.

"Ha..." he smirked, evil eyes meeting mine, "ha, ha, HA, HA, HAHAHAAA! I should've known! Despite your reputation as Shinigami, or whatever the hell you call yourself, you're just a coward! You should've been able to kill that foolish Heero Yu—AHHHMYEARYOUBASTARD!"

I lowered my gun this time, watching the crimson blood flow as Bowen clutched where the bottom part of his left ear used to be. "You knew. You knew I'd come to kill you. So where are the guards? Why haven't you had me shot yet? Do you have a death wish?" I hardly even registered the dark tone as my own voice as I reloaded my gun. I heard the light sound of footfalls on carpet from behind me, and I whirled, shooting down the three guards as they tried to sneak up on me. I killed them without hesitation, unlike the two in the elevator, who I had let live. I was facing Bowen again, and I only scoffed when I saw that he had drawn a gun. "Go ahead. Shoot me," I hissed.

And he did. I was forced back a step, biting my lip to keep down the grunt of pain as the bullet slammed into the Kevlar vest I was wearing. Hey, you never know when those things are gonna come in handy. It was surely going to leave one hell of a bruise. And again, I heard Bowen cackling as he fired off another shot, this one feeling as if the force of it had cracked one of my ribs. It probably had. I cussed loudly, shooting the hand that was holding his gun. A bullet nailed me directly between the shoulder blades—I'd be thankful later on that I had my braid over my shoulder at the time—and I was forced forward a step. I spun around, taking out the two guards who had come up behind me. I was panting when I turned back to Bowen. "Why," I forced out, "Did you want me... to kill Heero?"

He grinned, despite the holes in both of his hands, as well as the one in his ear, "Because, I wanted to see how many of those pricks you could kill before cracking. I overestimated you, it seems. Nonetheless, Heero Yuy will still die. I don't care about the others—they're nothing compared to Yuy and yourself. But he _will_ die. If not by your hand, then by someone else's. And this time, I won't spare you. You, Mr. Maxwell, will die with him, damned Gundam pilots that you are!" I knew it. He wanted Heero dead. Me too. Dammit! "I had decided, long ago, the first time I saw Gundam pilots 01 and 02, that I hated them. I wanted them dead. They were the strongest out of the five, and therefore did the most damage, and I hated them. Now, five years later, I finally get to drag you to hell with me!"

I cried out, unable to contain my rage anymore. I reloaded my gun as fast as my shaking hands would allow, and buried a bullet in Bowen's gut. He yelled in pain, doubling over, clutching his stomach. I shot his leg, then his other leg, intending to make him suffer as much as I could. He deserved it. It was his fault that all this was happening. He managed to straighten up and stare at me hatefully as I took a few steps forward. Another guard appeared from a doorway across the room, and I was forced back a pace as the bullet collided with the Kevlar over the front of my shoulder. The guard was dead before he could even think about shooting me again. I turned back to Bowen, just as he growled, "Just because you... kill me... doesn't mean... the others... won't come after... you..." And then the bullet through his throat, puncturing his windpipe and mutilating everything else, sent him to the floor in a pool of his own blood. I staggered back a step, spitting the sticky crimson that had been gathering in my mouth onto Bowen's twitching and gagging form. I left him there, knowing he would be dead in a few minutes, and disappeared back into the shadows. I would've loved to stay a little bit longer, make sure he really did die, but I was hurt enough as it is, and I didn't wanna wait around for the rest of the guards to show up.

I took the other of the two elevators down to the ground floor, not wanting to ride with the two unconscious guards from earlier. I fell back against the wall of the elevator, gasping painfully for breath as the adrenaline faded. I tightly gripped my gun, unable to get my hand to loosen as I though about what Bowen had said as his final words. _"The others..."_ Surely he meant May, Greer, and Riley, the three other assassins who were nearly as good as me. He had probably... no, _undoubtedly_ hired them to kill me in the event of his death. So did that mean Heero and I—because there was no way I was going anywhere without him—had to go into hiding? No, that wouldn't do any good. I'd just have to be prepared, and finish them off when they came to put an end to me. Dammit.

When I made it back out onto the street, I shivered in the icy night air. Thankfully, the snow had yet to pick up again. I tucked my gun away into my pocket, still not able to let go of it as I hurried to the train station. Heero was waiting for me. I nearly fell asleep on the train again, but not for the same reason as last time. I was worn out, sore, and emotionally drained; it felt like I had just crashed from some incredibly strong caffeine high. Nonetheless, the quiet chatter from the other passengers—it was nearly sunrise already, and people had to go to work—kept me awake as I made my way across town. I got off at my stop, and made my way back down the now familiar path towards Heero's apartment building. The front doors of the complex were unlocked now, so I simply walked in and took the elevator up to the seventh floor. I was so weary, having just pulled an all-nighter—the several bruises littering my torso seemed to feel like actual gunshot wounds. I didn't even bother with the lock pick when I finally got to Heero's apartment—I just knocked on the door a few times. If I knew Heero, he had stayed up, waiting for me, instead of getting some rest, like I had told him to. A few moments later, the door opened and there he stood, staring at me in shock. I must've looked worse than I felt, because—despite his own injuries—he put a hand under my arm and helped me into the warm apartment.

"Duo, are you okay?" he asked as I sat down heavily on the loveseat sofa. There was a concerned twinkle in his cobalt eyes, and I pulled him closed to me, placing a quick kiss on his lips before replying.

"I'll be fine. Just got shot at a few times is all." His eyes widened slightly and I put up a hand, gesturing that it was okay, "I'm wearing a bulletproof vest. So no worries." Heero sighed and I began to shrug out of my heavy trench coat. I'd probably need a new one, now that this one was full of bullet holes. He helped me to my feet and led me to the bedroom, only leaving my side to turn on the lamp on the desk.

"You should probably sleep for a while—you're welcome to my bed," he said, his hands working to quickly unbutton my dress shirt and slip it off my shoulders. I undid the vest as he went to get a pair of pajamas for me to wear. I shivered, feeling the cool air brush against my bare skin, as well as the familiar tickle of my braid against my back.

"It's okay; I can sleep on the couch. Really, this is nothing," I gestured to the big, reddish purplish spots staining my torso. "Don't you remember how bad we used to get bruised during the war? Like just from a Gundam battle? And we never gave ourselves more than a few hours to heal..." Heero gave me that look, the look that said everything without a single word. Still after all these years, it didn't faze me; I continued, "You should be the one in bed, especially with that limp of yours." He was still giving me that look when he handed me the pajamas; I pulled on the shirt, knowing he didn't mind when I pulled off my trousers in front of him and replaced them with the soft cotton sweats. I turned, intending to go lie down on the sofa in the other room. I really was too tired to argue, or talk, or anything really, and I think Heero sensed that.

"We could both sleep in my bed," he seemed to blurt, taking a few steps forward to grab my hand and lace our fingers together. I turned to look at him, then down at his hand holding mine, and decided...

"Why the hell not," I grinned lazily, letting him lead me over to the soft bed. Heero went to turn out the light before climbing in on the other side, pulling up the blankets to cover the two of us. His body was warm, and I was still cold, so I wrapped my arms around him and let him pull me close. This was something I had waited so long for... and I was asleep before I could even appreciate the feeling of being in Heero's arms...

. . .

When I opened my eyes, several hours later, I looked up to see Heero still sleeping soundly beside me. I smiled softly, remembering all the times during the war that I had simply knelt by his bed and watched him sleep—all the times that I had watched him after a rough mission, terrified that the slow rise and fall of his chest would soon cease. Careful not to wake him, I pushed myself up on one elbow to gaze out the window across from the bed. All I could see was a white haze—the snow had begun to fall again. I winced, relaxing back into the bed as my bruises twinged uncomfortably. I was sore, but it was okay. I sighed quietly, contentedly, as I looked back up at Heero's sleeping face. I couldn't believe it. We were finally together. We had finally slept in each other's arms, finally had our first kiss. Even now, with him so close to me, it still seemed beyond belief that I wasn't alone anymore. Heero... It wasn't long until his eyes fluttered open and his bleary cobalt gaze met mine. "Good morning, Heero," I whispered, grinning against his lips when he kissed me gently.

He pushed himself up on one elbow, leaving his other arm still draped around my side. I watched as his eyes quickly looked me over, checking to make sure I was still in one piece, nothing bleeding. "Are you alright, Duo? You were really out of it when you got back this morning," he said, moving his arm from my side to my face, rubbing my cheek gently with his thumb.

"I'm fine now, just got some pretty nasty bruises," I replied, placing my hand over his. I smiled softly, moving his palm over to my mouth so that I could kiss the calloused skin. "Although," I said into his hand, closing my eyes—I felt Heero relax back onto the bed next to me, felt his cobalt stare; I heard him sigh quietly. "It feels like one of my ribs got bruised pretty bad, despite the Kevlar. I thought it was cracked, but now I'm sure it's just a big bruise. But that's the worst of it."

Heero heaved a heavy sigh, moving his arm from my grasp to pull me close again. I couldn't stop the wince or sharp breath when his hand accidentally pressed against the nasty bruise in between my shoulder blades. Heero flinched, moving his hand away like I had burned him, quickly asking if I was okay. "Yeah," I nodded, opening my eyes, which had been clenched shut, to gaze up at him. "You just found one of my bruises," I winced, curling against him.

It was silent for several minutes, save for the howl of the storm outside. "How did it go?" Heero asked, seemingly out of the blue. I looked up at him, confused as to what he was talking about. "Your hit last night, killing the guy that wanted me dead. I know you got hurt, but did you manage to...?"

I smirked. Ah yes, _that_. "Yep, Alexander Bowen is dead. I left before he actually died, but I shot him enough times to seal his fate. That guy was seriously twisted—he said that he wanted to see how many of the other pilots I could kill before I snapped." Heero tensed against me at that, no doubt imagining the same thing I was: a real life scenario of that nightmare from several nights ago. "He must've known I was gonna kill him though—he seemed pretty resigned to death. He just yelled a lot and shot me a few times, but other than that, the bastard knew he had it coming." My hands grabbed at Heero's shirt, holding tightly onto the soft fabric, "He hired the other guys though, to come after me. May, Greer, and Riley—they're all out to get me now. You too, Heero. But—" Heero cut me off, his voice calm and caring.

"Don't worry Duo. I don't know who those three guys are, but I won't let them hurt you. You have nothing to worry about..."

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**okay, i apologize for all the sap. i swear i didnt intend on writing it that way. but you know how it goes, fics always write themselves. although i really did enjoy writing all the yelling. that was fun XD**

**meh, so yeah, last chapter tomorrow, then i get to disappear again! yay! (not.)**


	6. Tying up Loose Ends

**ah! the end! this is the end! XD the end of this chapter... well i had no idea how to end this fic, and this way was the easiest...**

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Shadows of Death

. . .

Chapter 5

Tying Up Loose Ends

A whole month had passed since Heero and I found each other again. There were still no signs of any of the guys who wanted me and Heero dead, and Bowen's demise had long since left the newspaper headlines. By now, it seemed like the entire ordeal was nothing but a dream, that there really wasn't anyone searching for the two of us, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and end our lives. If only it was that simple...

I sighed, curling into Heero as we lay in my bed. Both of our Preventers jackets were lying in a heap on the floor, and the photo that had been locked in my drawer for so long now stood proudly on the nightstand. I hadn't hesitated to join Preventers, now that my career as a hitman was history—I had a job interview not even a week after Heero and I got back together. Commander Une had greeted me at the interview with a "So the last of the Gundam pilots finally got his priorities straight, huh?" and a hard pat on the back, just barely missing the bruise in between my shoulder blades. I had grinned at her, glad to see that she had _finally_ seemed to settle on a personality—one that was apparently between her strict and kind selves. Despite my relationship with Heero, I had been assigned to his team, both of us sharing the title of captain of the squad. I hadn't even bothered wondering why I hadn't taken this job in the first place, all those years ago, because I had no clue what the answer was.

Anyways, back in the present, Heero and I were currently in the process of moving him into my apartment—we had decided mine was the nicer of the two. Next to me, Heero shifted in his sleep, his light blue pajamas a near complete contrast against the black sheets. I smiled softly and closed my eyes, relaxing back into the plush bed. It was Saturday morning, mid February—Valentines Day had been a blast, if you were wondering—and the sun was cold and bright, shining in through the bedroom window. Heero had to go to work for a few hours today though, needing to finish up some paperwork for our mission later next week. We had agreed that he'd do the paperwork, if I stayed home and worked on unpacking the boxes we had brought over last night. The box was mostly just summer clothes, though, and a few knickknacks that had been lying around his apartment. So yeah, we planned to meet up at the bookstore around noon, to just have lunch and hang out for a while. It was going to be fun.

I couldn't hold back the quiet chuckle when Heero muttered something that sounded remotely like my name as he slowly rose from the depths of sleep. His eyes opened and he smiled confusedly, looking absolutely adorable as he tried to figure out why I was laughing at him. "I love you," I whispered, pushing myself up so I could kiss him on the nose. Heero just continued to grin, pulling me in for a good morning kiss.

If only I had known how quickly this day was going to hell. It was quarter to noon now, and I was walking down the busy street towards the bookstore—although I was clearly being followed. Thank god I never went anywhere without my gun. Quickly glancing around, I turned, slipping into an alley. I discreetly reached into my coat to draw my black pistol, my hand tightening around the familiar metal. I could clearly hear two sets of footsteps behind me now. There was a turn at the end of the alley and I stopped, turning to face my pursuers—a man with shaggy black hair and beady brown eyes, and another, younger man with short, strawberry blonde hair that was spiked at the front. Mitch Greer and John Riley. How wonderful.

"Whaddya want?" I spat, in no mood to deal with petty banter, "You two assholes here to 'finish me off, once and for all'?" I frowned at them, as well as to myself. I had to be careful. Even though I had my gun, I wasn't wearing a bulletproof vest, and only one shot could easily bring me down... I couldn't let that happen. I kept my hands shoved in the pockets of my trench coat—I had gotten a new coat after the 'Bowen Incident'—one hand tightly grasping my gun.

"Precisely," replied Greer, taking a step forward—I held my ground. "Our instructions were to wait until you had enough time to believe that no one was coming after you—but you know better than that, don't you, Maxwell? You're not so foolish as to let something that serious go, although Alexander Bowen would've said otherwise... Well, it's nothing personal but, this is the end of the line for you, and your pretty-boy lover."

"You talk too much," I hissed, glaring at them to hide my fear. Two against one, and they were surely ready for a firefight. I wasn't. I only had one extra round for my gun, and the knife in my boot—if that wasn't enough to defend myself, then I was screwed... And god dammit, I couldn't let that happen.

Riley, who had yet to speak, drew his gun and pointed it at me casually. There was a blood lusting twinkle in his green eyes, "And you talk too little, Maxwell. You always struck me as the kind that never shuts up." I sneered at him, not even flinching as the audible _click_ of his gun as he turned off the safety echoed through the alleyway. My hand tightened on my gun in my pocket as Greer followed Riley's example, raising his weapon. The amusement was clear in Riley's voice, "You really had this comin'—you and that _girl _friend of yours. What was her name again? Oh yeah, Heero. Heeeeeero. What the hell kinda name is that? Cuz that sonofabitch certainly ain't no hero." He laughed at his own joke, Greer joining in. I just glared at them, the anger rising. How dare they make fun of the man I loved. I was going to kill them for that. "Maybe you would've been able to keep some of your dignity, Maxwell," Riley continued, "But you just _had_ to go and join Preventers. Really, how _low_ can you get? Might as well've just—"

That little bastard. He was pissing me off—and he knew it. "SHUT _UP_!" I lost my temper. Crap, this was bad. "Cut the shit, you asshole! Another word, and you're dead!" This was really bad. I drew my gun, pointing it directly between Riley's eyes. Greer seemed to have taken a step back, simply watching the scene unfold. I was breathing heavily now, the fear and anxiety having completely faded in the face of my anger. I could handle it when those jerks made fun of me, for who I was and whatnot, but not when they started talking crap about my job, or about my lover. Especially not my lover.

"Ha! Pissed now, aren't you Maxwell? What're ya gonna do? You gonna—"

I cut Riley off again, only this time I shot him in the chest. I cussed loudly when I realized the little shit was wearing a bulletproof vest. Dammit. He grinned at me, pulling up his shirt so I could clearly see the Kevlar. I shot him again, while he was too busy trying to distract me—the bullet made a clean hole in his right upper arm. He wouldn't be able to wield his gun correctly now—the asshole had screwed up before the fight even got started. But that was when Greer stepped back into the picture. This guy was older than me, by ten years at least, so he certainly knew enough to remain level headed during a fight. And the asshole proved that when he simply raised his gun, shooting at me. I just barely managed to dodge, and I hissed in pain when the bullet grazed my side, cutting into the unprotected skin—it was superficial now, but it was surely gonna hurt later. I was sure that Greer was wearing a bulletproof vest like Riley was, so I drew my knife as I ran towards them. I went after Riley first, who was now glaring daggers at me as he clutched his bleeding arm. He didn't even get a chance to cuss at me as I swiped my knife at him—he leapt back, raising his gun with his other hand. Greer somehow managed to get behind me, and I almost didn't get out of the way in time to dodge the blow from the butt of his handgun. I would've been on the ground, out cold if that had hit true to its mark. Even still, he had managed to crack me over the shoulder with the hard metal. It stung sharply, enough to make me dizzy, but the adrenaline of battle allowed me to ignore it and keep on fighting.

I took a deep breath, calling upon the memories—engraved in both my mind and my body—of how I used to fight during the wars. Having grown up on the streets, I was used to fighting more than one person, especially people that were bigger than me—for a very brief moment, I was grateful that I hadn't grown much in the past four years. So, to my enemies' surprise, I tucked my gun back into my pocket, only wielding my knife now. This was gonna get _bloody_. Without even the slightest hint before I started, I dropped into a low run, making my way towards Greer. He hurriedly jumped back to avoid the first slash from my knife, but I kept going, following him and swiping quickly, back and forth, until he was up against the wall and the shiny blade finally began to cut into something that wasn't air. I knew it was only the Kevlar, but one slice actually made it through, cutting flesh. Greer hissed in pain at the very same moment that Riley cussed loudly, firing his gun at me. Even if I hadn't dodged, the bullet wouldn't have hit anything important—he was shooting lefty now, remember?—but I still made it a point to get out of the way in time. I drew my gun as I spun on my heel, grasping it tightly in my left hand—contrary to popular belief, I was nearly ambidextrous when it came to wielding weaponry—and I was chasing after Riley with my knife now. If only I could get them to gang up on me! Then I'd really have the advantage...

Riley seemed almost overwhelmed as I forced him backwards several steps. Even though he was nearly as good as me, when it came to capabilities, John Riley lacked the years of experience that I had from the wars. Even though he was a year or two older than me, he was still new to this; he didn't know all the tricks for when you were up against someone who was actually going to _fight back_ when you tried to kill them. And if things went the way I intended, he never would know. I heard Greer coming up behind me and I turned halfway, shooting him and continuing to force Riley back against the wall. At point blank, Greer was forced back along with the bullet, although it surely didn't get through the Kevlar. But Greer stumbling back gave me just enough time to land a good hit on Riley—I wasn't playing nicely today. Shoving my gun back in my pocket, I turned my full attention to Riley. He was about to shoot at me again, but I swiped at his chest with the knife then kicked myself forward the last few steps, outstretching my left hand and slamming it as hard as I could into the wound in Riley's arm. At the same time, my knife lodged itself into his gut, angled up to cut deep within his ribcage. He cried out and I jerked the knife up, twisting it and doing as much damage as I could.

That was when I heard the click of Greer's handgun, felt the end of the barrel press up against the back of my head. "Move a muscle, and you're dead," he said, voice cold.

Shit! How the hell was I supposed to dodge this? Riley was still breathing somehow, pressed up against the alley wall, seeming to hang from the blade of my knife.

"It really is a shame," said Greer from behind me, "that there's no way that I can spare your life. I'd gladly refrain from killing you if you came back to being a hitman, but I'll surely lose my hard-earned reputation if I don't dispose of you here and now." I could just sense that his finger was tensing on the trigger. I stood stock still, waiting for the perfect moment to strike—right before he fired the gun, when he thought for sure I'd go willingly. "What? No fight? The legendary Shinigami isn't going out with a bang?" he asked, tone mocking. "Well, it just makes it easier for me. Goodbye, Maxwe—"

Now! Before he could even finis his sentence, I reached behind me and grabbed at his arm, one hand wrapping around his gun and the other at his forearm. I pulled him forward, the shock of it forcing him to pull the trigger. Thank god the silencer was screwed on tight, or I would've gone deaf as the bullet shot straight into Riley, not two feet away, killing him instantly in a shower of blood. It was good to see that I still had the lightning fast reflexes from during the war—Heero was strong, and I was fast, that was the way it had always been. I pulled Greer forward, quickly wrestling the gun from his grip and pushing myself backwards into him, making sure that there was no chance for him to draw any other hidden weapons. I spun him around, tripping him as I did so, pushing him to the ground. I sat across his chest, holding him still, much like Heero had on the night that I had found him. Holding Greer's own gun in my hand, I pressed it in between his eyes, my finger already tense on the trigger. I couldn't hold back the triumphant laugh. I had the upper hand now. Riley was dead, and Greer was as good as. I scoffed at him, "Really? Is this all you got? You and Riley both, I was really expecting more of a fight from two of the second best hitmen around."

Greer just glared up at me, seeming to accept his defeat. Well, even if he didn't, it's not like there was much he could do now. "Any last words?" I asked with a smirk, playing up the old cliché.

"Yeah," he said, sounding rather angry, "I knew it was going to end like this. The Gundam pilots are fucking immortal compared to us damned _normal_ humans. I hope you—"

I cried out in pain, doubling over and my finger instinctively pulling the trigger. Somehow, Greer had gotten his arm up without me noticing—I hadn't had his arms pinned to the ground, like I should have—and he had literally dug his hand into the deep bullet graze in my side. He was dead now, thanks to my reflexes, but _damn_ that hurt! I moaned quietly to myself, staggering to my feet and letting myself wobble back a step. I tossed Greer's gun to the ground, walking over to Riley's corpse to retrieve my knife. I felt kind of numb, in the emotional sense, as I wiped the blood from my knife with Riley's shirt and put it back in the sheath in my boot. I wasn't too far from the train station, so the way home wasn't going to be terribly long—as in, I didn't really have to bother with trying to bandage the cut in my side just yet. I just buttoned up my trench coat, glad that the dark color hid the bright red stains. And so, there really wasn't much else that I could do here. Riley and Greer were dead and I just wanted to go home.

The train ride home sucked, like usual, and I just sat there for the first few minutes, staring out the window. But then I realized—Heero! He was probably at the bookstore by now, waiting for me. I quickly pulled out my phone, wincing when I moved my hurt shoulder, and dialed his number. He picked up on the second ring.

"_Duo? Hey, where are you?"_

I sighed, wincing again a moment later. My tone sounded rather downcast and weary, "On the train... going home. I—meet me there? I'll tell you what happened when you get home, okay? Oh, and don't—"

Heero tried to cut me off, _"What happened? Are you—"_

But I didn't let him. "—worry. I'm fine; have been worse. I'm almost at my stop, so I'll see you soon, okay love?"

Despite what I said, Heero still sounded worried, _"Okay. I'll be home as soon as I can. I love you, Duo."_

"I love you too. Bye," I hung up, slipping the phone back into my pocket. It was only a few moments until the train finally came to a stop.

It wasn't long until I got to my apartment building and up to the tenth floor, where Heero and I lived; I had taken out my key long before I even got to my door. Finally home, I walked into the quiet living space, making my way to the bedroom—I shrugged out of my coat and kicked off my shoes as I went. Keeping my hand at my side, loosely covering the wound, I wandered into the bedroom. I stopped for a moment, staring longingly at the bed—I really just wanted to curl up under the blankets and wait for Heero to get home. I sighed and shook my head. Instead, I stepped over to the sink area of the bathroom, retrieving the first aid kit and quickly tending to the cut in my side. There was an ugly, painful bruise on my shoulder where that damned Greer had hit me with his gun. Again, I sighed, putting away the first aid kit and pulling on a clean black shirt and a pair of sweats of the same color. Heero would probably be home soon, so I just went and curled up on the bed and closed my eyes.

I let my thoughts wander, thinking about the fight and who had come after me. It had only been Greer and Riley, two of the three. What about May? Had he not been hired to kill me? Or would he be coming another time? I sighed; it wasn't that much of a deal. It's not like that guy could kill me, anyways.

. . .

"Duo?"

I had apparently dozed off for a few minutes; the sound of Heero's voice brought me back from the depths. I opened my eyes, rolling over onto my back and looking at him. He was on his hands and knees on the bed, looking at me with a hint of concern.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

I grinned at him, pushing myself up carefully. I quickly placed a soft kiss on his lips before replying. "I'm alright. Remember how I said that the other hitmen were probably gonna come after me?" He nodded, "Well they did. Two of the three: Greer and Riley. I had been on my way to meet you at the bookstore, but I ended up fighting and killing them both." Heero's eyes widened slightly, worry glittering in the cobalt depths. "I got hurt a little bit—just a bullet graze and a nasty bruise—but I'm fine."

Heero took me into his arms then, hugging me to him and whispering into my ear, "I didn't know what to think when you called me earlier. I was worried. I didn't know if you were hurt, sick, scared..." His voice faded and he kissed me, deeply, desperately, lovingly. I returned it, letting him be the one to break away.

"You..." I started, breathless, "You shouldn't have worried. I can defend myself just fine, thank you very much." I grinned at him—although my voice was still serious—and he smiled lightly; I hugged him tight.

"Aishiteru, Duo," Heero said as I pulled the two of us back on the bed. Heero was still in his Preventers uniform, minus the jacket and his shoes. We were lying side by side, but then he rolled us so that I was resting on top of him, chest to chest. I continued to smile.

"I love you too, even if you are a big worry-wart." Heero chuckled at that and kissed my forehead. I relaxed against him, holding one of his hands in my own, while his other arm was draped over my back. "You know," I said, several minutes later, "There's still one guy left who is on the list to come and kill me. A dude named Toby May; I don't know if he was hired with Greer and Riley though. He's the last one of the three that have skills that can even be _compared_ to mine. But the other two didn't stand a chance against me, so he might chicken out..."

"If he's smart, he will chicken out. But if not, I'm going to make sure he doesn't even get a chance to lay a hand on you," said Heero quietly.

"Good." I sighed then, squeezing his hand, "Oh Heero... I'm so glad that, despite what happened, we're back together again. I made a big mistake in taking a different path of life after the war... I love you so much, Heero."

Heero squeezed my hand in return, "And I made a mistake in not following you on that path, for letting you go... I love you too Duo, more than anything."

I chuckled quietly, pushing myself up a bit to look at him, grinning as I spoke, "To think we found each other again because I was trying to kill you, just like how we first met all those years ago. It's pretty ironic if you ask me. I'm really glad I didn't shoot you this time though," I laughed and he smiled.

"Yeah really. I don't want you to have to rescue me from any hospitals again," Heero joked, before pulling me close and kissing me. "I love you, Duo, thank you for finding me again."

"You're welcome Hee-chan," I grinned, brining his hand up and kissing it, "Love you lots."

OWARI

Or is it...?

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**and yeah. the end. i'm not sure if i wanna continue this- like i want to, but i dont know if i'll finish it. well anyways, thanks for all the reviews on this fic, hope to hear from you guys again soon! er... soon as in, the next time i post something DX**


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